


Memorable

by helens78



Category: Equilibrium
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-01
Updated: 2007-11-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 20:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jurgen wants to bring Errol's memories to the surface.  Errol just wants to be memorable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memorable

"How long has it been since you had sexual contact with someone else?" Jurgen asks.

"A week." Jurgen raises his eyebrows. "A week ago I had sex," Partridge says. "With my partner. Cleric Preston."

"With your partner," Jurgen repeats.

"We're assigned to aid each other with sexual release." Partridge feels a vague sense of amused satisfaction at having been able, finally, to surprise Jurgen with something. He wonders what the word for that feeling is. "That's not what you were expecting to hear, is it?"

"No, it's not." Jurgen hands Partridge a glass of wine, and he takes a seat on the couch. "Was it good?"

"I barely even know how to judge anymore."

Jurgen grins and leans forward, lacing his fingers together, resting his chin on his thumbs. "That's what I'm talking about. When was the last time sexual contact was memorable for you?"

Partridge takes a long drink of his wine. There'll be more, he knows, if he finishes this glass. He has a feeling Jurgen would like him drunk. "I don't remember," he murmurs.

"How old were you?"

"I don't--maybe eighteen."

"Your first time?"

"My first few times," Partridge corrects.

"Was your partner male or female?"

"Male," Partridge murmurs, drinking more wine.

"Tell me about him."

"I don't remember his name. I don't even remember what he looked like."

"Do you remember how he made you feel?"

"Not like this."

Both of Jurgen's eyebrows go up. Partridge finishes off the wine and sits down, foregoing armchair and couch to sit down at Jurgen's feet. Jurgen unfolds himself, reaching out to cup Partridge's face in his hands. Partridge closes his eyes and lets Jurgen run his fingertips over his face. When his thumb brushes over Partridge's lips, Partridge takes it in, tasting it, sucking on it.

"More," he whispers, when Jurgen moves his thumb away. "Please."

He can't help thinking about how many times Jurgen's done this, how many people he's shared sex with in hopes of bringing the memory of sensation back to the surface. How many men have knelt in front of Jurgen this way? How many women? It shouldn't matter, but it does; Partridge wants to be the first to make Jurgen groan like that, the first to make him clench his fists and drag someone's mouth down harder, faster.

When Jurgen comes with a soft gasp and the bitter taste of come fills Partridge's mouth, it matters a little less.

_-end-_


End file.
